From the Ground Up
by chaosshotgun
Summary: [Semi-AU, all origins are true.] Picking up the pieces after losing her parents and her home to a traitorous family friend, Elinore Cousland and her brother, Evain, join the Wardens. Will they be able to save Ferelden from the Blight, make peace with the tragedy and find love? After all, there's that sun-haired, hazel-eyed Alistair wriggling into Elinore's mind and heart...
1. Taking Flight

**Disclaimer: I do not own DA:O nor the little quote thingie at the chapter's beginning.**

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><p><strong>From the Ground Up<strong>

**Chapter 1: Taking Flight**

_I convinced myself that I would never find you when suddenly I saw you…_

**Elinore**

The halls of Highever never felt this empty. Even with the guests milling about – Arl Howe of Amaranthine arrived earlier than his men, meaning that half of my father's forces would be leaving as an advanced group to heed King Cailan's call. No one expected the Blight to strike, but there it was, and the greatest army that Ferelden has ever known is starting to amass. My eldest brother, Fergus, was to lead the first group to depart, and I was supposed to let him know exactly what was expected of him.

That was one thing. I was also supposed to get our pet dogs out of the kitchen, where they were apparently scaring the life out of the cooks. I clutched the letter from my sister, Elissa, who was now married to a knight in Redcliff. Behind me, our other brother, Evain, grumbled to himself.

He, Elissa and I were triplets, apparently conceived because of a Healer's fertility spell gone awry. It didn't really matter in the end, since all the Cousland children were raised with love. I tucked the letter in my satchel, missing Elissa like mad, the way that we were almost mirror images of each other, except for her green eyes and my blue ones. To further differentiate ourselves, Elissa kept her hair long, while mine went barely past my shoulders. I kept it up in a messy bun most of the time.

"You're worrying about Elissa again," Evain muttered. "She will be fine."

Like the rest of the family, Evain had dark hair that he kept short, his sparkling eyes as dark as the night. He grinned at me. "You know, you could've gotten a lot of suitors too if you didn't threaten to chuck knives in their faces or got them."

"You forgot flaying them alive," I said with a chuckle. We were all trained to fend for ourselves, even sweet, quiet Elissa. I myself prefered a pair of short, lightweight swords and many hidden knives.

Armors clunking as we jogged toward the kitchen, I nearly bumped into Mother, who was entertaining two of our other guests. Mother, by the way, is Teyrna Eleanor Cousland herself, bestowing her usual kindly smile toward us before turning back to her visitors. Lady Landra, wife of Bann Loren, and their son Dairren were talking amiably to her, while Lady Landra's lady-in-waiting, the pretty elf Iona, hovered behind them.

Dairren beamed at me. Now that my sister was married, it seemed like he turned his attentions to me. I grinned at him, baring my teeth and revealing the small knife hidden in my leather bracer. Evain crossed his arms and leered at him. The two of them never got along well.

"Ah! Lord Evain, Lady Elinore!" Lady Landra smiled at us. "I haven't seen the two of you since your father held his spring salon!"

"Yes, I remember that clearly," I told her reluctantly. She was magnificently inebriated for most of the night and flirted with Evain. That left her son to hit on me nonstop.

Dairren nodded. "I hope you still are thinking of my offer. We could wed immediately after we return from the battle. I will be riding with your father as his second, you know."

"I haven't really decided yet," I told him. Oh, really, Dairren had an influential family as a bann's son and heir, but I really wanted someone who liked me for me.

Mother shook his head reprovingly. "Lad, you must not push a lady like so. After all, it is so difficult to choose when one has many suitors." She gave me a knowing look before turning away to engage her guests in conversation again.

Evain nudged me, and we moved on, ignoring the noise in the keep as mothers, wives, and daughters bade goodbye to their fathers, husbands, sons, and brothers. Half of me didn't want to replay those scenes with Fergus, while another half wanted to come with him into the thick of the battle. Mother wouldn't have any of it though, claiming that Evain and I were needed at Highever. Like Mother wasn't perfectly capable of handling things by herself.

Red-haired, sturdily-built Ser Gilmore, a young knight who served our father, was waiting for us a couple of streets away, arms crossed. "About time!" he said with a jovial smile. "Nan is out of her wits with those hounds intruding upon the larder."

"Nan is always out of her wits when it comes to Shadow and Interceptor," Evain told him with a chuckle.

Seeing Gilmore made me remember Elissa all over again, as the two used to flirt. Not ending up with each other actually was a surprise to everyone. I suppose he was good-looking enough. Before I could greet him though, Nan stepped out of the kitchen, arms crossed.

"I knew I heard you in there," she said. Our former nanny was still quite spry for her age. "Your warhounds are making trouble again. You better get that sorted out soon."

I saluted quickly, not wanting to be hit by the laddle she was wielding. Only Nan could get away with hitting us. "Yes ma'am!"

We barged into the kitchen, where the two elf assistants were huddled in a corner. "We were hearing a noise in the larder before those two hounds came i-in," the slender elf girl said. "W-we're sorry!"

"Don't worry," I told them. "We'll handle it."

We opened the larder, where Shadow, Evain's male black hound, and Interceptor, my female brown, were barking. Enormous rats hissed back at them, though neither side seemed willing to deal the first blow.

"Giant rats?" Gilmore groaned. "Sounds like every bad adventure my grandfather used to tell."

Evain drew his greatsword and charged. I flicked out a couple of knives, taking out a couple of rats. One hissed and lunged at me, but Interceptor growled and snapped its neck with a bite. The fight took a few minutes.

After a bit more of small talk, we left the servants to clean the mess. We had to find Fergus for father. We heard rumors about Duncan, the Gray Warden visitor. Apparently he was looking for a recruit and lovely Ser Gilmore himself was a candidate.

"I wonder if they still ride on griffons…" I told Evain.

"Tough luck. I don't even think griffons still exist," he told me.

**Alistair**

Joking around with the young men of Highever made me feel like I somewhat belonged – something that the Templars and Redcliffe could never offer. There was no need to fake grins and make up irreverent jokes on the fly. That was good. Getting drunk, on the other hand? Bad. Badditty bad. I stumbled around the hold, disoriented. I was sorely tempted to throw up on a particularly fine set of shoes left behind outside a door, but I didn't have the heart to.

Having trouble keeping myself together, I threw myself into the nearest open door, not really caring whom it belonged to, and poured my heart out to the nearest flower pot. In a way.

"Charming," a girl's deep voice said.

Groggily, I looked up and realized that I wasn't alone. I realized that I was inside a bedroom. A girl's bed room. And the Teyrn's daughter was staring right at me.

Maker's breath, she was a pretty thing. And I knew that being around pretty girls pretty much turned my brain into mulch. I've never dared get near enough to talk to girls before, especially since growing up with the Templars meant that everyone except those swooping Chantry bats were male. This girl though, I've seen her when she and that bear of a brother of hers were talking to Duncan.

"Sweet Andraste's knickers! Duncan must've been looking for me!" I stammered, skittering away from the pot and falling from my back.

Elinore Cousland snorted. "You're that junior Warden that Duncan was lugging around, right?" she asked, approaching me. I tried to crawl backward, away from her, but I was too dizzy. "You poor thing. Did you get yourself drunk?" She crouched before me, concern in her blue eyes. I've never seen eyes so blue before. "Ser Gilmore must've forgotten to tell you that Highever ale is stronger than the watered down version you soft southerners like."

"Soft southerners?" I stammered.

"So, no 'my fair lady' or 'beautiful lady'?" Elinore asked with a boyish grin. "I'm liking you more and more every minute. You know, I've never told anyone but Elissa about how tiring it is when everyone praises you for your appearance or merely notices you for your rank. Enough about me, I wasn't able to catch your name properly earlier. Alastor, or something?"

I rubbed my forehead, wondering what I got myself into. "Alistair."

"Ah, there we are. Alistair. I'll remember tat. I'm Elinore, but I guess you know that already." Elinore stood up and closed the door behind me. She seemed to know how trapped I was feeling. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to do some nasty swooping on you. I've never even been close to some guy before. Aside from my family, of course.""

That made the two of us. When it came to people of the opposite sex. I mean. "Good. Swooping is bad. I hope you don't mind me being me, Lady Cousland, I didn't receive a note with full instructions on how to deal with you."

Elinore laughed and strode to a corner before returning to me with a rag. "We can't just hand you back to Duncan without getting you cleaned up." She began wiping the vomit from my armor with a snicker.

I tried to knock her hand away and do it myself, but my vision began to swim. I really couldn't think clearly anymore. "Let me do that!"

"Does it really look like you're in a condition to do so?" Elinore finished wiping me up and tossed the rag into the messy puddle I made in her flower pot. She sat beside me, cross-legged. "Now, I'd get you some tea from the kitchens but that'd probably raise some questions about whether I'm… caboodling. With some random Gray Warden. Huh. Mother would probably rip off my skin." She glanced at her bed and then at me again. What exactly was this girl thinking? "Or maybe not, if she still wants to see me married off. Like it'd ever happen."

"Y'don't do well around men?" I said, horrified when I realized just how slurred my speech was.

"Rarely. When men hit on me, I usually threaten them immediately. And those that don't hit on me usually get turned away by my personality." Elinore shrugged. "Maybe I'm not marrigeable, then."

"But you're interesting," I argued. I remembered Arl Eamon's visitors from my early days in his home, wondering if the Couslands were among those. Most of the women were definitely boring. As much sense of humor as a lump of rock. Especially when it came to cheese.

Elinore grinned. "You must be running a high fever with all that drinking. It's not good for southerners." Shaking her head, she scuttled closer to me. "You look about ready to pass out. Come on, I have a spare mattress under the bed. It's a little dusty and lumpy since it was my old mattress, but it'd do for now. Just don't let them know that the Teyrn's daughter considered caboodling with you."

I nearly choked. Was that true?

**Elinore**

Dragging a half-drunk, fully armored man around my age wasn't exactly easy. Luckily my new friend was still aware of what was happening and even tried to help me pull out the mattress before he gave up and threw himself across my bed horizontally.

He was snoring the moment he hit my bed.

My bed.

A man was sleeping on my bed.

A good-looking, friendly young man who was probably around my age was on my bed.

Resigned to my fate, I locked the door outside my room, trusting Interceptor to wake me should something happen. Pulling on my sleepwear, I made sure that my emergency pack – filled with a few changes of clothes, extra supplies, and valuable jewelry – were secured by my bed. We can never be too sure that nothing wrong could happen in the coming days, with the impending Blight.

I threw myself horizontally on my bed, making sure to keep a small distance from the snoring Warden, and closed my eyes.

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><p><strong>I've been playing Dragon Age for sometime after diving in headfirst into a game that made me curious for quite some time. I didn't really know anything about the game aside from Morrigan being from that game, but I fell in love with the story. And Alistair really reminds me of a certain real-life guy... so I decided to write write write! I hope you guys would read it and nudge me, especially if someone strays into Mary SueMarty Stu territory.**

**Anyway, all the Origins happened here, and we'll be exploring some possible romances between the Wardens (there will be eight, including the Couslad duo) and their followers (hell-o, Morrigan.)**

**I hope you guys read and review. :3**


	2. Thrown from the Perch

**Disclaimer: I don't own DA or the quote.**

**Semi-AU. Take it or leave it. XD**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Thrown from the Perch<strong>

"_Darkness exists to make light truly count."_

**Elinore**

"Elinore! Wake up," a vaguely familiar voice hissed into my ear. It tickled, and I giggled. "If you don't get up right now, I will start calling you 'my fair lady.' Something is wrong."

I rolled over, and saw the Warden staring right at me. Alistair looked more alert than he was earlier that night, his hazel eyes glinting in the semidarkness, a little ruffled from sleeping in his armor. Outside, Interceptor was barking angrily, and I could hear screams and shouts. I got up, forcing myself to wake up completely as I donned my armor. I didn't really care if the Warden stared. It felt like something was wrong, like my new friend oh-so helpfully pointed out.

I made sure my knives were in place and belted on my swords. I glanced at Alistair, who stared back. He was unarmed.

"Something bad's going to happen to people who don't stay armed all the time," I told him, handing over my left-hand sword. I replaced it with a knife. It felt a little awkward, but will have to do.

Grabbing my emergency pack just in case, I kicked my door open… to a battle raging outside the room. I recognized three of the combatants – Evain, Mother, and Interceptor were fighting men with familiar-looking crests on their shields. The crest of Arl Howe.

"They betrayed us," I managed to yelp to Alistair before one of them noticed us and charged. Before I could chuck a knife to defend myself, Alistair intercepted the attack, getting rid of the enemy in three quick strikes.

I heard that the Wardens were good. But not that good.

"So, are you just going to gape at me while the world ends around us?" His voice knocked me right back into the present.

I made sure that my knives were in place, and I brandished my sword with a howl as we charged in to defend my family. Evain gave us questioning looks and shot Alistair a mistrustful glare as we joined them, knocking the soldiers away from us. Shadow barked as he joined the fray, and got rid of all the soldiers in the hall.

"Oriana and Oren," Mother gasped. "We need to see if they are safe."

Shield raised just in case, Evain opened the door to Fergus' room, and barely deflected an arrow in time. "Ambush," he managed to yelp as he stepped forward, bashing his shield right onto the archer's head.

We followed him in, and the next fight was a blur. I took down a dagger-wielding warrior with help from Interceptor. The shouts and screams in the room seemed to muffle as I fought, until I felt the sharp bite of a knife. I let out a cry as staggered back and Alistair chopped off the enemy's arm. As the man screamed in horror, Evain ran him through with a sword.

The fight ended, and we finally managed to survey the gruesome scene before us – our nephew and sister-in-law lying in a pool of blood.

It felt like all the blood drained from my body. I knelt before them, vaguely hearing a feral scream as my mind froze in disbelief. Oriana. Oren. Oren, who was just a child. Oriana, who had always been kind to us. Who was right at home with us. Dead. Dead. Dead.

It wasn't until my throat hurt that I realized that I was the one screaming. Kneeling in a pool of blood – their blood – I screamed my heart out, tears pouring down my face. "How could he do this?" I yelled. "Rendon Howe was our friend!"

"They will pay. They will all pay. Every last one of them," growled Evain.

As we left the room of corpses, I heard Alistair murmur a prayer for Oriana and Oren. I fell back, wiping the last of my tears as we jogged away from the scene, and to the treasury to get some "family heirlooms" which turned out to be a sword and shield, which Evain quickly swapped with his own pair.

We reached the entrance hall, where Ser Gilmore and the other surviving knights were fending off an rush of soldiers from the entrance. "Roland Gilmore!" Alistair called out. "Where's Duncan?"

"I do not know, my good Warden. But the Teyrn lies wounded in the kitchen," Gilmore replied.

"There is a secret exit there. We may escape through that way, but if Bryce is hurt…" Mother began.

I murmured a silent prayer to the Maker, hoping against all hope that Father was alive and well. We jogged toward the kitchen, fending off soldiers along the way. I couldn't stop the tears of terror and pain. Nan's corpse lay by a door, eyes open and glassy. My breath caught, and I stopped. I was acutely aware of how much my wounded arm hurt. And I was also aware that I was alive, and most people I knew or love were dead or dying.

Evain grabbed my hand, a dead look in his eyes. "We have time to mourn later," he said calmly. "For now, we must fight to live."

Mother led the way to the kitchen, escorted by our Warden in shining armor and the dogs. They threw the door open.

Father was lying in a pool of his own blood, still alive. But barely. "Eleanor. Evain and Elinore, my pups…" He let out a shuddering breath. "Thank the Maker that you're alive." His eyes moved to Alistair, and they widened for a fraction. "Your Highness, thank you so much for bringing them to me just this last time."

Alistair squirmed uncomfortably. He did have a passing resemblance to dearly departed King Maric and his successor, King Cailan. "Just – Just Alistair, Lord Cousland."

"Father, we need to escape," I began. I turned to Mother. "You mentioned something about an exit."

Father groaned. "In my condition, I will not be able to move. And I do not have time…"

The door opened, and we turned, ready to attack. It was just Warden Commander Duncan, though, sword drawn and bringing luggage. He tossed another sword and a shield to Alistair. "You forgot your things, lad," he began. Then, he turned to our parents. "Bryce, they are coming. They know you are here."

"Duncan, old friend, take Eleanor and the pups with you," Father began.

"But you're coming with us," I blurted out.

"If you must stay, then I will be by your side," protested Mother.

"You can't just – just give up your lives here," added Evain, his cold shell breaking. "What will happen to Highever without you?"

"The question is: what will happen to Highever without the two of you?" she shot back. "Your father is too weak to come with you. I cannot just abandon him. I have not forgotten how to fight. I will hold them back and buy you all some time."

"Duncan, Lord Alistair, please watch over them." Father closed his eyes with a cough. A bloody, wet cough.

"Please, let us take you with us," I begged. "We'll manage. I know we will."

Mother gave Duncan a resigned look. "Please take care of them," she said. "Do what you must."

"Very well," Duncan said. "The king gave me the power to invoke the right of conscription, and I do so now. The Blight is upon us, and Ferelden needs capable Wardens. Evain and Elinore Cousland, the king has given me the right to take the best warriors in the realm to save it. And you shall be joining us."

Evain and I were backed against a wall. We can't just decline. And someone has to let Fergus know what happened. And avenge everyone.

**Alistair**

As we prepared to depart, Lady Cousland took me aside. "I know who you are, dear," she said softly. "Had things been different, I would have wanted to see if you were a match for Elinore. Please watch out for my children, my Prince."

My head still hurting from my drunken escapade, my body equally sore, I barely registered what she said. But the lady knew who I was. And she was actually hinting something about me… and her daughter… and my brain was mulch again. Clearing my throat, I tried to smile. It looked more like a grimace. "I'll do my best," I choked out.

I turned to Elinore, who was standing before the secret entrance that Evain and Duncan already plunged into, keeping the hounds with them. She had a hand on her wounded arm, sobbing so hard that she couldn't move. She looked up as I approached, biting her lip. "I c-can't," she began.

"You can't. And I thought you were pretty determined just a while ago," I told her. Footsteps clashed outside, followed by shouts. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her into the exist, and through a darkitty dark tunnel.

We closed the door behind us just as the enemies barged into the kitchen.

Duncan and Evain clutched fiery torches – our only guide to the way out. Not exactly reassuring. We began to move as quickly and as quietly as we could in our armor which meant that a lot of clanging and clunking was involved. Yup, real subtle. We staggered out into a hidden opening on the side of the cliff where Castle Cousland and the surrounding keep were perched on, and stumbled into an ambush.

"This is worse than the worst hangover ever," I moaned as I drew my sword, trying to get in between the enemies and Duncan's recruits. No use getting them hurt before the Joining. And well, Elinore might skin me alive with those knives of hers.

The siblings quickly covered each other while Duncan headed for the leader. The fight was brief, thankfully. There were only five of them. Duncan waved us over, and pointed to the woods. "They'll be searching for us along the road. We need to stray off the beaten path. I've steeds waiting in Denerim. Might take us three weeks from there."

Three weeks to Ostagar. I wasn't looking forward to this.

**Elinore**

It was the third night since our flight from Highever. No one spoke much during that time, leaving me to dwell on what happened at home. Which we didn't have anymore. We took shifts at night to keep watch over camp, and it was decided that we do it in pairs to avoid falling asleep on duty. Evain quickly volunteered to share shifts with Duncan. Maybe it was for the better. Discussing things would just make everything more painful. And I didn't know what to say to him.

I just hope I wasn't pushing him away.

I woke up three hours before dawn, taking my shift with Alistair. The young Warden kept his eyes on the fire, poking it absent-mindedly with a stick. He looked up as I joined him, wrapping my cloak around myself. I've never talked to him since we fended off Howe's men.

He stared at me for a while, his hazel eyes glinting in the firelight. "It wasn't your fault," he told me quietly before turning away.

What happened to the joking, drunk Warden I met in Highever?

"It wasn't our fault. It was Howe's," I told him. I was quiet for a while. "Have you ever lost anyone like this?"

"I never knew my parents," Alistair mumbled. "I grew up in Redcliffe. Been there?"

"Loads of times," I admitted. "I was around eleven or twelve when they first brought me along."

"Must be why we've never met. I was the son of some dead serving maid. He helped raise me until he married Arlessa Isolde. She must've thought that I was the Arl's bastard son." He rubbed his wrists with a small frown. "She was… nasty. Right. She forced her husband to make me sleep in the kennels, starved me half to death, and eventually sent me away to train with the Templars."

"You're a former Templar?" I've seen some Templars, and none of them had any sense of humor. They probably also had as much emotion as a rock. "You don't look like one."

"I haven't taken my vows yet. I didn't exactly enjoy life in the Chantry. So when Duncan arrived to recruit about six months ago, I pretty much jumped up and down until he picked me. He saw that I wasn't happy there, and beside, some Templar tricks would be useful agaisnt darkspawn. Or, if all else fails I could just act as a distraction until some other Warden take them down. Or dance. Or just put on a dress."

I smiled a little at that. "I can imagine."

Alistair grinned back. "There's the pretty girl I met in Highever, with the impish grin and the scary knives. That I don't want anywhere near me."

My smile widened. After days of gloom and angst, it felt like my cheek muscles hurt so much. "You know, maybe you should work that magic of yours on Evain too. It feels like he's going to stab someone – or something – before we reach Ostagar."

Alistair smiled and tossed his stick into the fire. For a while, we watched it crackling merrily. "It must be hard for both of you."

"Very," I agreed. I rubbed my chest, feeling the empty ache in there. "It will get better."

"You were nice to me that night. Wish I could help," admitted Alistair. "But if you think you can ask me to sing some song of doom, I'm drawing the line."

I laughed. Maker's breath, laughing felt good. I brushed away lingering tears from my eyes and lightly tapped my new friend's armored shoulder with my fist. "I'll be teaching you some court dances, though. If ever I attend another ball someday, I'll take you with me to keep away potential suitors."

"I could pretend to be your lover. But that's too bland. How about your pet hound stuck in a human body?" Alistair grinned.

As if on cue, Interceptor bounded toward us, barking merrily before letting me rub her belly. I nodded to him. "A hound stuck in a human body… but Interceptor is female, just so you know. So, anyway, how's life with the Wardens? I better know what we're going to get ourselves into."

"Well, I'm the newest recruit by a margin of three weeks. A pair of dwarves – dwarves! – joined before me. One's this quiet noble, a little thoughtful. His name's Duran. There's also a female dwarf, a little boisterous and good for a drinking buddy. I think her name's Tella or something. They're pretty nice, I guess. Not pretty and nice like you, I mean and… uh… I'm blabbing again, aren't I?"

I just laughed. There was something endearing about this awkward Warden, and I liked it. He was easy to befriend. "So, are you sure that you've never been with a woman before?"

"Aside from those who nag at me? No." Alistair stretched tiredly.

I heard soft footsteps behind us and saw Evain approach, sitting on a log to my left. There were bags under his eyes, and it was obvious that I wasn't the only one who didn't sleep well every night. "Nightmares?" I asked him.

Evain stared at me, looking as lost as I felt. He wasn't the cold, calm young man I knew during the past three days. It was like ice smothered his former fire. I've never seen someone look so defeated. "That would be an understatement," he muttered. Then, he turned to Alistair. "Your assistance is appreciated, Ser Alistair."

"Please, just Alistair," the Warden told him.

Evain smiled a little. It seemed like he also forgot how to in the past few days. "As long as you don't canoodle with my sister, then we're good."

"We did not canoodle," I said, launching into the tale of how I met the young Warden puking in a flowerpot.

**Alistair**

Denerim was how I remembered it – noisy, messy, and smelly – the market district, at least. I haven't been here for around five years, but the sights and sounds still felt the same. I took a deep breath, knowing that my half-sister, Goldanna, was out there. Maybe I could be brave enough to face her someday. But not now.

We booked rooms at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, and Duncan rushed off to the Alienage to visit an old friend's daughter. Apparently he heard news that she was going to be married today. Sentimental man. Huh. That left me locked up in my own room. I wasn't exactly excited to see the sights.

There was a knock on the door just as I undid my armor and pulled on a simple tunic. And there I was thinking I could just sleep the day away. I stood up, pulling on my boots as Elinore Cousland barged in, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun. She had a nervous look in her eyes. "Apparently, Duncan let it slip to King Cailan that we're here. He's come to see us."

Here? Cailan? What's he playing at? Did he know I was here? I knew that he knew that I also knew that he also knew that we were half-brothers. I gulped. "Aren't you the nobles here?"

"You're the Gray Warden, and he wanted to talk to the Warden who was apparently left behind to 'supervise the initiates' or something." Elinore shrugged. "He's waiting in a private dining parlor with Evain."

I stared at her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Oh, fine, fine. I'll do my Warden duties, but no dancing the Remigold."

"No one expects you to," she said, tossing me a hunk of cheese. "I'd love to see that, though."

"Well, you could get me a pretty dress and I'll see what I can do," I told her, biting into the treat. We laughed as we headed downstairs. "So, have you already terrified the locals with your apparent knife-throwing skills?"

She glared at me good-naturedly, twirling her hand around to produce a knife hidden in her sleeves. "Well, not yet. I haven't exactly tossed knives since we left Highever." Her voice hitched as she mentioned those events. I had this weird urge to give her a hug. Which probably won't help things. "Anyway, I could do with some target practice. I could bribe you with cheese."

"Most definitely not, my fair lady," I protested. We laughed, walking past the King's guards who were stationed outside the dining parlor. One of them bowed to Elinore and opened the door to her. I held out a hand. "Shall we?"

"Most gracious of you, my dashing Warden," she replied with a snicker.

King Cailan, all golden finery and wide smiles, was talking to Evain. "We did not expect Howe's treachery, Your Highness. His men came in the middle of the night. There are no survivors, save for us."

Elinore's gaze turned icy as she nudged me forward, lowering her head to acknowledge the king's presence. "Your Highness, here is the Gray Warden you have been looking for."

Cailan's eyes widened with recognition, though I applauded him for his ability to quickly mask it. "Ah, fantastic. I have heard of how you have protected the young Couslands here and helped them escape Highever. Alistair, am I right?"

Like he didn't know who in Thedas I was. "Your Highness," I said with as little respect as I could without pissing him off. "Yes, the name's Alistair, the adorable junior warden."

"Adorable? What has my sister been feeding you?" Evain shot back.

"Be quiet, Cousland," I told him with a grin before turning back to the king.

King Cailan seemed to be studying me, and I fought off the urge to squirm and mumble. I was talking to the king. My half-brother, but still the king. I did hear that he departed for Denerim for something or another shortly before Duncan dragged me to Highever, but I never expected to meet him here, of all places.

"I have heard things about you," he began. By the Maker, hopefully he didn't suddenly blurt out that we were brothers. He glanced at the siblings. "My Lord and Lady Cousland, if you may, I wish to speak to our young Warden here. Alone."

Elinore's hand slipped away from my ar, and she did a quick curtsey. In her tunic and pants. And I almost cracked up again. She grinned and dragged her brother away from the room, shutting it beside us.

"You needed something from me?" I asked.

Cailan snickered. "Oh, I see the resemblance. I know that you know that I also know that you also know that we're half brothers."

"Not that I've been trumpeting that around like some freakish herald," I muttered. "So, how did you know?"

"I wasn't exactly a toddler when they presented you to him." Cailan's eyes darkened, and I really hoped that he wasn't planning to flay me alive. Or stuff me in a dress and feed me to the darkspawn. "Oh, stop fidgeting, I'm not going to make you dance the Remigold."

"No dresses and darkspawns?"

Cailan's lips quirked up into a smile. "No." He regarded me with those eyes, unsettlingly similar to mine. I fought the temptation to run out screaming and laughing in terror. "No dresses and darkspawns. We can't have my potential heir damaged beyond repair."

"What are you talking about?"

The king eyed me knowingly. "Oh, I think you know. When I saw you in Ostagar, I knew who you were before Duncan introduced you to me. And I knew what I could do to keep the family line safe. I came here to sign papers legalizing you as my brother and current heir – unless that barren Witch of the North miraculously gets pregnant."

"You're saying that. About the queen." My eyes widened. "I can't believe it!"

"You and I are not so different, I belive. So there you go. To prevent that manipulative witch from seizing power should something happen to me, I am securing the realm with an heir." Cailan shrugged. "I know it's not ideal, because of your parentage… and I do not think you were raised for this task. But you are needed. It was already announced in Ostagar, and I have sent messengers to proclaim your legalization in every city and village."

"You're insane," I told him. "Mad. Blood-frenzied Mabari hound mad."

"Believe me when I say that this is the sanest thing that I have ever done, brother."

If Elinore ever finds out, she is never talking to me again.

**Elinore**

We crouched right outside the parlor where the king talked with our Warden friend. "What do you think are they talking about?" I asked.

Evain shrugged. "Maybe about how they're long lost cousins thrice removed or something. They do look somewhat similar."

"Many nobles look somewhat similar. We've been marrying into each other's families far too long. Maybe Elissa marrying lower was actually a good choice."

"Maybe, maybe not." Evain suddenly snickered. "I just hope that they're not teaching each other new jokes. They'd make a devastating pair."

"As long as no one cracks more Remigold jokes, and complains about cheese, I'm all fine."

Evain raised an eyebrow. "And there I was thinking that you're smitten with the sun-haired Warden with his red-gold hair and his equally liquid gold eyes."

"I've said nothing of the sort!" I snapped.

"Oh, but 'tis there, sister. I can see it in your eyes and the way you smile at him."

"I am not smitten." Or was I? Just remembering our new friend's easy grin was enough to make me smile myself. But I barely knew him. "He's just interesting."

"That's what Elinore said about Ser Harewin, and next thing we knew, they're married." Evain raised an eyebrow at me. "She likes redheads. You like cheeseheads?"

"He is not a cheesehead."

"Who's not a cheesehead?" The door in front of us was open, and Alistair was standing in front of us, his usual smile replaced by an uneasy one. "Cheese is a fine delicacy, my young lord and lady."

Evain looked a little guilty. Serves him right. "Oh. Um, is something wrong?"

Alistair shrugged. "Aside from him asking me to grow my hair long enough to tie into pigtails? I'm well. King Cailan needs to talk to you again, Evain. Something about matters in Highever."

Evain straightened up, looking like a younger fergus. The darkness in his eyes seemed to lurk in the corners, like it always did when he was reminded of Arl Howe's betrayal. He gave me a reassuring squeeze in the shoulder and smiled darkly. "He'll pay. For Mother and Father. Oriana and Oren. Nan. Roland. Everyone."

He left me to resume his meeting with the king, leaving me with Alistair. Remembering Evain's jokes, I did not know how to face him. So we stood there for a little while, not quite facing each other. He finally cleared his throat. "To be honest, I wasn't even considering cheese jokes in front of the king," he admitted. "He just asked me a few things. About Duncan."

I knew he was bluffing , but I decided against calling him out. If he wanted to talk, he would.

"I really need a freaking drink. Northerners brew strong ones that soft southerners can't handle, right?" he asked with a ghost of his former mood. "See you later."

Watching him walk away, I began to wonder exactly what was wrong with the sun-haired cheesehead.

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><p><strong>Just another small idea I've been playing with. We'll be meeting the City Elf next chapter.<strong>

**Thank you so much to _Andraste's Flaming Sword_ for reviewing. Hoping to get more soon. :D**


	3. Unbound

**Disclaimer: If Jon Snow knows nothing, then Chaos knows nothing.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Unbound<strong>

"_Hold back the tears, there's little reprieve."_

**Elinore**

Sleeping is difficult when you've gone through a lot of terrifying and traumatic things in your life. No matter how you joke around and push the memories away from your mind during your waking times, they will always creep up into your dreams at night.

By the time I woke up, I felt so exhausted. My eyes felt horridly heavy when I hefted my pack and lumbered out of my room. The blood, fire, and screams were still fresh in my head. Outside, Evain was waiting in the hallway, looking as terrible as I felt. "They're waiting for us downstairs," he told me. "Duncan's back, and he has a new recruit with him."

Downstairs, Duncan was scolding a totally hungover Alistair,while he fed scraps to Interceptor and Shadow. Beside him was a slender elf in leather armor, fair hair tied back in a simple ponytail and her green eyes nervously attentive. An ornate two-handed sword was strapped across her back.

Duncan looked up and noticed us. "Ah, so nice of you to join us," he said jovially. He motioned to the food –laden table. "Do not let me keep you from your breakfast. Oh, and Alistair? The tea may help you with your headache."

"I'm never drinking again," the younger Warden declared. "Well, unless Gregor challenges everyone again. I'm not going to let him beat us again."

"He always does," Duncan told him. "None of you ever learn."

I sat down opposite the two men, shoulder to shoulder with Evain. We stared at each other before grabbing a few rolls. I caught the elf's eye, and she looked away with a flush. "Forgive me, mistress," she said quickly.

Duncan cleared his throat. "Ah, I have forgotten to introduce you all. This is Yuria Tabris, a daughter of an old friend of mine. Yuria, these are Evain and Elinore Cousland, your fellow initiates. And of course, the hungover junior Warden here is Alistair." Curious, how he made sure not to mention the last name. It seemed like the two Wardens – and Cailan – were hiding something.

"Pleased to meet you," Evain began with one of his charming smiles. No one would believe that he hasn't even gone close enough to kiss or bed a woman.

"L-Lord and L-Lady Cousland," Yuria began, rising to her feet and bowing.

"Ah! There's no need for you to do that," I said. I hated the way my voice sounded whiny. "We're all fellow initiates here."

Yuria nodded quickly, sitting down. "I am sorry, my Lady."

"Just Elinore."

The city of Denerim was slowly waking by the time we left. A soft wind blew, tugging at the corners of my traveling cloak. The steeds that Duncan procured for us were quite good, though we couldn't exactly run at a full gallop or else the hounds would not be able to catch up. Still, it was faster than walking, and less exhausting too.

By the time we left through the city gates, we were still alone on the main road. The warm summer wind caressed our faces as we began our journey to Ostagar. The pain of our recent losses still lingered, but there was a feel of hope in the air.

The fields that we passed through were quite lovely, and made me think of home. I wondered how the citizens of Highever now fared with Arl Howe seizing power. Would there be uprisings? Unrest? I shuddred to think of more innocent blood spilled because of an old friend's envy. I didn't realize that I was starting to cry until I noticed Evain staring at me.

"Andraste's ashes, it doesn't get better, does it?" he asked in a shaky voice.

I wiped off the tears. "I feel stupid. But no, it doesn't get any better when everything is a constant reminder of what happened."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Cailan promised to direct his troops to Highever once the Blight is quelled. With him backing us, I hope that our family shall find justice."

"Nevertheless, I wish I could have the chance to make Howe pay myself."

Behind me, Interceptor growled and barked before scampering away after Shadow. Evain nodded thoughtfully. "We have to break the news to Elissa."

"Yes, that would be difficult." I stared at him. "We might end up making her march to Ostagar all armed and dangerous, demanding for answers."

"I can't imagine sweet, demure Elissa doing that."

"Ha! She is better than I am at swordplay. And chucking knives. And being a lady."

We camped in a small patch covered partially by a rocky outcrop. Duncan tended to our dinner, whistling merrily. I found myself sitting beside Yuria while Evain and Alistair were exchanging ridiculous manly jokes. The elf was drinking a cup of warm tea, her face guarded. I didn't know what to make of her. She seemed friendly enough, smiling and answering questions. But she never initiated any conversation. She looked afraid.

"Are you well?" I asked.

She stared at me for a while, her green eyes reminding me uncomfortably of Elissa. "Of course I am, mistress."

"There's no need for you to call me that." The elves at Highever were not this submissive. Remembering home made me want to break something. "Just Elinore will do. We're all going to be Gray Wardens. No titles. No affiliations."

Yuria looked down. "It is hard to think like that… Elinore. When all your life, you are merely a servant, it is hard to see anyone outside of home as an equal."

I felt a twinge of sympathy for her. How much were they pushed around by the nobles of Denerim? "It gets easier when you realize that we all bear burdens. My brother and I… lost half our family and everyone we loved to one of our friends."

"Burdens?" The elf rubbed her face with her hand. "I am a murderer." Murderer? She did not look like it, and I told her. She laughed bitterly. "My wedding day was yesterday, and Bann Vaughan saw it fit to kidnap me, another bride, and all the bridesmaids. I fought my way out, but it cost my betrothed his life. And my cousin his freedom. Another cousin was raped."

"Then Vaughan deserved it," I promised her. "When we quell the Blight, we can ask your cousin's freedom as boon from the king."

A smile lit up Yuria's features for the first time since I saw her. "Thank you, mistress – I mean, Elinore."

**Alistair**

First watch is never fun. But at least it's better than taking the middle shift, leaving you feeling horrid when the next day rolls over. I expected to be alone, since Elinore finally had a female companion to latch herself to. Which wasn't exactly helping the fact that Cailan might've told her brother who I was. Oh joy.

I heard a rustling behind me. Elinore stepped out of her tent, dressed in a simple tunic and breeches. She grinned and sat down right beside me. "Hey," she began. "I hope you aren't tired of sharing shifts with me. Evain wanted to talk to Yuria tonight regarding some elf or another from the Alienage."

I shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm not going to chuck knives at you. I believe that's your job."

She stared at me, those sapphire eyes a little sad. "I don't really mean to pry, but it looks like Cailan brought some kind of shocking news to you yesterday."

"Not exactly," I said, flashing her one of my not exactly winning smiles. "I sort of expected it already, 'specially when we first met in Ostagar but… not that way."

She gave me an understanding nod and looked away. Interceptor bounded toward her, wagging her tail. That hound seemed overly attached to her master. "I'm not going to pry on the details. Don't worry. It's just that if you need someone to talk to, you've got Evain and me, all right? He… actually asked me to tell you that."

I really liked the Couslands. Really. They're nicer than most nobles, and that's saying something since I was partly raised by one. Though Arl Eamon's treatment of me wasn't exactly my only basis.

"Thanks." I grinned at her. "Please don't let your betrothed catch you saying nice things like that. Whoever he is, he might end up beheading me."

That made her laugh. She was pretty when she laughed. Pretty, and dangerous. Not a bad combination, in my opinion. "I was never betrothed. Our parents wanted us to marry for love, like they did. That is why they let my sister marry a knight, and my brother marry a trader's daughter, not a noblewoman."

I nodded. Yep, the Couslands were not your regular noble family. "That's still weird," I told her. "You're terrifying and pretty. Men would swoon over you. And I'm blabbering again."

She laughed even harder. "Only men with damaged minds, maybe," she shot back. "But then, the same could be said for you. You are the strangest man I have ever met – and I grew up with Fergus and Evain."

That made me laugh. "I get that all the time. Funny, the way the Blight brings strange folk together."

She nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. Next thing you know, we'll be finding mages eloping with templars next."

When morning arrived, crisp and cool, we set off early. Duncan wanted to reach Ostagar as fast as possible, because he wanted to arrive before a recruiter he sent to the Circle Tower did. I found myself riding beside Evain, who nodded to me.

"What's it like, being a Warden? Are there lots of ladies there?" he asked in excitement.

"Nope, we've only got one female Warden, and that feisty dwarf would probably brain you with her hammer if you hit on her. Besides, you can't outdrink her."

"Huh, sounds enticing."

I rolled my eyes. "No wonder Elinore calls you hopeless."

"Look who's talking," he shot back. "It's odd, though. Why aren't there a lot of female Wardens?"

"Maybe because we're smarter than you," Elinore told us with a smirk.

Evain pointed a finger at her. "Smarter? Ha! If I have you know, most strategic geniuses in recorded his tory are men!"

Yuria sniffed. Her usually shy and demure mask melted into a miffed one. "That is because you men haven ever given us a chance to shine. It is the same with your attitude toward elves." She exchanged grins with Elinore. "Besides, men think with the wrong head. And if not, they think everything could be settled with a sword and much yelling."

"You have a point about genders and races," Evain relented. He grinned at me, though. "But we accept your unspoken challenge to prove that men are not as stupid as you think, don't we, Alistair?"

"We do?" I stammered. "I didn't even know that there is a challenge."

"Of course there is," he muttered through gritted teeth.

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><p><strong>A random, short-ish chapter. It seems like I've been getting some hits on this story. Hi readers! XD<strong>

**Read and review, please! I would really love your opinions as much as I am loving Evain right now. Hee hee**


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